The Wolf
by Angelinsydney
Summary: Sequel, sort of, to "Hell Hath No Fury". Spike consults with CSIS. But an assignment proved to be more than he bargained for. Intrigue/action/drama. Love story thrown in for fun. Spike in one of his best form! Dedicated to Blue Skittles Kat.
1. The Summon

To thoroughly enjoy this story please read every chapter, if you skip one you won't be able to keep track of the mystery. Thank you for reading and enjoy the ride.

**The Summon**

Spike had a late night and went to bed intending to sleep-in come what may. Come what may came at 1am when his computer monitor came to life, Yoh-Lin Tee, CSIS Senior Intelligence Analyst was online to him. _This better be good!_ Spike woke up instantly, his brain shifting into gear. He sometimes wondered if he's the only one who's brain shifted in gear.

"Hey, you." He said sleepily to the Senior IA.

Without any foreplay, his CSIS handler went ahead with the nature of his call, "Hey, you. Need your help to sniff out a sleeper cell , I've got no one else. Everyone's been raised." Michaelangelo scarlatti was CSIS' man of last resort! One of several, he supposed.

The two have become tight friends and relied on each other on a number of occasions. In one sense, they're like two peas in a pod. They think alike and has lightning speed brain processors, it's a wonder they don't suffer headaches for all the junk information they have accumulated in their brains. Walking encyclopedias, not wiki that's not realiable, these two were.

"Where to?" Spike cut to the chase.

"CRIB."

"In 15."

"See ya."

He changed into a button up shirt and a pair of denims. Put on a pair of soft Converse shoes. Liley and Moppet were alert to his movements and thought, ok play time. To his credit, Spike the softie, has learned to be firm and said, "Stay."

Scarlatti made it to The Communication, Reconnaisance and Information Bullpen (CRIB) in 15. Let himself in via a secure entrance that required only his finger print for access. He had a funny thought, _I should insure my fingers for a million each._ The door opened unceremoniously, it had already scanned him while he waited to be let in.

He headed to one of the CRIB's many briefing rooms, number 7. In the room was a stunner. Well, that's an understatement really, she could well be Miss Universe for all he knew. She stood, at her full height at 5'8 (172cm, give or take), just a shade under his height. She was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, topped by a safari khaki jacket. The outfit emphasized the muscle tone on her upper arm. _Wow, she'd put Wonder woman to shame._

Below she had denim shorts that showcased a pair of very well defined legs that went forever. They tapered at the knees and at her ankles, very like a pair of gymnast's legs. On her feet were laced up combat boots, this woman was ready for war. _But where would she keep a gun in that outfit?_ His typical male brain asked. He thought Lara Croft came to life, except this live specimen sported very, very short hair. One could say crew cut.

The skin was like alabaster and she wore no makeup. He couldn't help it, he stared. She must be used to the reaction because, she smiled and simply said, "Are you going to come in or just stand and stare?" It threw him off-balanced and he started to babble, "So… sorry… I'm here for Yoh-Lin. Did you have plastic surgery?"

She laughed at that and extended her hands, "Special Agent Sam Miller."

"First Class Constable Michaelangelo Scarlatti," he harked back, extending his hand. "SRU", he added for special effects. It didn't have any… effect, that was!

Yoh-Lin entered the room via another access door, "Now, you turn up, we've made our acquaintance thank you very much," he said pretending to be annoyed. The Senior IA ignored him and homed in on the beautiful Sam Miller like a heat-seeking missile, "Glad you could come."

"Excuse me, hello…. Earth to Yoh-Lin?"

Yoh-Lin punched his shoulder, "Glad you can make it, too. About time you earn your keep." Spike pretended to be hurt, "What do you mean time to earn my keep? Who do you think rearranges your meetings when you're not looking?"

"Shit," Yoh-Lin was flabbergasted, "I very nearly fired my PA for that."

"Ops, give my apology to her."

"Him."

Spike made a face, didn't mean to be sexist in front of a sexy….. he thought for a second… assassin?

"Boys play-time's over," it was Sam and she sounded damn sexy, too. Both men didn't think they could think in a straight line let alone do security briefing but they could be forgiven, not their fault she's too darn hot.

Yoh-Lin handed them each a USB. "Everything you need to know's in there. I'm afraid Spike that we can't have your full-time attention but any help you can extend would be appreciated. We're short staffed and everyone's on assignment . Sam will be your main contact, her cover is as a University Professor." The CSIS man handed Sam her credentials, University staff card, teaching schedules, and most importantly her handle: Sabrina.

"Spike, your handle: Wolf." The SRU man just smiled that showed the craters on his cheeks. Sam noticed. _Cute._ She had to mentally slap herself to get back to business. Rule #1 of espionage, never get involved with anyone whichever side of the border. It'll be a real test of the will.

"We can discuss the minutiae of the Operation now or you can both go away and do it on your own time, that said, we don't have a lot of time." He gave them both a secure phone, "Not to be separated from you at any time." Their numbers would be pre-set on the phones but essentially in the event of a compromise they have to have the numbers burned into their memory bank. Yoh-Lin passed them a piece of paper, they both looked at it, memorised the numbers and tore it to pieces.

They have been trained in the science of mnemonic so remembering sequences of numbers was neither difficult nor complicated. Spike, Sam and Yoh-Lin has got the science down to an art.

Time to go. Spike was starting to yawn, Sam glanced at him with a smirk, what she was thinking one could only guess. He excused himself and left 'Sabrina' with her handler.

The Wolf had his first test of loyalty and he hoped to pass.

He reached home just as Winnie was arriving from work. She smiled at him, no questions asked. How could I repay such trust with anything but loyalty? It would be easier said than done.


	2. The Triumvirate

**The Triumvirate **

**Yoh-Lin Tee**

Yoh-Lin was second generation Chinese Canadian. His parents migrated from Taiwan to Canada to give him and his unborn sibling a better future. He, the eldest son didn't disappoint, a Straight A student from kindergarten to High School; he completed a double major in Computer Science and Applied Mathematics; along with a string of minors from the University of Toronto, with honours to boot.

He joined the spy agency straight out of University and has been an utter disappointment to his parents ever since. All his adult life, Yoh-Lin lived with the following parental refrain, "You could have been a very rich Microsoft systems developer, but you waste your life spying on people. Shameless!" But Microsoft's loss was the Government gain. He has been with CSIS for the best part of 20 years; starting out as an underpaid Trainee and moving up to become an underpaid Senior Intelligence Analyst. He could have made Division Head but he didn't play politics well, in all honesty he'd rather deal with computers and informants than politicians and bureaucrats.

His best qualification, however, was his natural ordinariness. And ordinary was what made him very special. The thing about being a spy was the ability to blend in the environment like a chameleon, and be adaptive. He once told Spike, "If you want to be caught spying, act like one." To drive home his point, he and Spike played a game. They sat huddled at a corner coffee shop for an hour, and left at the same time. Yoh-Lin asked Spike to go back to the coffee shop asked the waitress who served them their coffee to describe the person he was just with. The waitress failed big time, "I can't remember," she said, ""He's just ordinary." It was never about the moves or the swagger that was all Hollywood.

Yoh-Lin has been a hundred different person in one life-time, he has a suitcase full of passports to prove it; but his favourite was the computer geek persona just because this was genuinely him. And perhaps why he connected with one Michaelangelo Scarlatti, among other reasons. He once remarked to Spike, "If they switched our dossier, none would be the wiser."

He's been pegged as a one-dimensional babbling genius, people forget there were other aspects to his personality, like he's an artist in his own rights. An accomplished pianist, he could for all intents and purposes play at any concert halls anywhere in the world had he pursued the ivory keys. Why didn't he? Sometimes he wondered.

The Master Spy also has a non-threatening personality. People relaxed in his presence not knowing that the man they assume to be harmless can be lethal when required. To say he's a martial arts expert would not come close to what he could do with just two fingers and an open palm.

Yoh-Lin's expertise has been tracking the "chatters" and interpreting it, for the task, he has a number of consultants he can call upon, one of whom was Scarlatti. The job was often tedious and boring so they relied on their ability to make it interesting. The geeks have their own brand of entertainment, mostly evolved puzzle-making and then finding creative solutions; this activity could definitely keep a cerebral person awake long enough to sniff out a sleeper cell.

If there was one aspect of his job Yoh-Lin hated it's the demand for constant travelling. The travel requirement was a killer. Yeah, travelling; the way to murder a man's libido and love life; and, the short-cut to an early death. It's all exciting and fun until you had to travel in all sorts of weather condition at all hours at short notice. Yoh-Lin has slept in almost every airport, port, train station, and bus stop in the world. He once cancelled a date and explained he was in fact half way around the world and couldn't make it in time for dinner, the woman never spoke to him again. Thus, at 40 Yoh-Lin Teh was still bachelor-at-large even though he was tall and very good looking. **Very** being the operative word.

**Sam Miller**

Sam was Sam. It wasn't Samantha or Samera or Samira. She was Sam, always was and always will be. She has an interesting background.

The eldest of three beautiful and talented sisters. She was ambitious. Tough. Aspirational. Her father, a doctor of medicine and her mother, an artist raised their daughters to believe they could be anything they wanted to be; and all Sam ever wanted to become was a spy. Where the idea came from she never questioned, she just wanted to be one. Her sisters reckoned it was from watching to many James Bond movies.

After university with a double major in politics and languages she joined the Foreign Service, initially as an interpreter. She was fluent in Chinese Mandarin and later, studied Arabic. She could have stayed in the Diplomatic Corp but didn't like what she was becoming: a decorative handbag. She wasn't anybody's handbag and she's let a few powerful men know in more ways than one. Sam once kneed a politician in the groin after he'd touched her bum one too many times.

The move to intelligence was a no-brainer. She excelled because she had the aptitude for it but she soon discovered she was becoming a handbag anyway. An Embassy function? "Get Sam to go with you." An inauguration at a Consulate? "Get Sam for your date." Enough was enough and what's how Sam came to be in Yoh-Lin's team.

At 35 Sam, drop dead gorgeous and aware of it, has a reputation of leaving behind a string of broken hearts. But then to be honest she never really need to make an effort. She only had to stand in the middle of the road to stop traffic. To her credit, she didn't capitalised on her looks unless the job required it. She has a razor sharp mind, a quick repartee and an insatiable craving for knowledge. Just the sort of person to get a sleeper cell to wake up.

Oh, and deadly with a gun, a knife, a syringe, a sword. She once incapacitated a man twice her body weight with a tweezer! She once joked she aim to do it one day with a paper clip.

**Michaelangelo Scarlatti**

Mike Scarlatti, aka Spike, believed in keeping the peace that was why despite a promising future in computing and chemistry he joined the police force. His first Training Officer, Sargent McCoy, recognised his talents early on and encouraged him to join the elite Strategic Response Unit, a version of SWAT.

Like Yoh-Lin, Spike was of migrant extraction and a disappointment of sort to his Italian father. And, like his friend, he has been somewhat pigeon-holed as a babbling genius. In truth he was a multi-dimensional man. A man of letters, of sensitivity, of passion and of faith. He has a pensive, reflective side to him that people overlook. A capacity to bear hardships and the bravado to carry on when the going got tough. Contrary to certain opinions, he didn't become SRU because of one skill set. No, he got there with a bag full of tricks and the belief that he could do more than know when to fire a gun.

Spike was also a cook. He could cook anything from sweets to spicy to salty to explosive, depending on the circumstances and the guests of honour. He once said that "bleach wasn't just to whiten your clothes and vinegar wasn't just to season your food."

It's only been recently that Spike managed to be in a relationship, in one sense because he has come of age and because the right person came along. It's still early days as far as relationships go but signs were it could last the distance. It would be tested severely during this so-called operation but he didn't know it yet. In his mind, he was vague on how it would all play out; with his plate full and time being what it was, a mere 24 hours a day; regardless of how many things needed doing. Waking a sleeper cell was another one of those things!

_When the sleeper cell woke up, without any prodding on their part; the trio would find themselves in the midst of a cat and mouse game they couldn't have prepared for, even with all their training and experience. It could only get more complicated and the plot more convoluted from here._

_Interesting?_


	3. Professor Sabrina Myles

I don't own a Lotus Elise sports car. It fitted the story just fine so I borrowed it.

**Professor Sabrina Myles**

Sam assumed her new persona like a snake would slither out of an old skin. An academician by avocation, her new role fitted her to a T. She knew before she began her assignment that she would enjoy walking the halls of learning. She'd be teaching English as a second language to Chinese and Arabic speakers on Campus. The chatters were coming thick and fast that "unsavoury elements" have infiltrated the ranks of unsuspecting migrant students and were recruiting them for illegal activities. There were conflicting reports and information however, so it's a matter for her to sift the wheat from the chaff.

Anyone who knew Sam Miller would never assume, just by looking at Sabrina Myles, that they'd be the same person. The Professor could only be classed as an eccentric. The only thing she retained of her true self was the footwear, Prof Myles went on campus in combat boots. Nevertheless she was still an epitome of class and would become a fashion trendsetter on campus, when not long after she started young ladies were attending classes in her footwear.

Nearly everyday, in or out of the University grounds, she wore brightly patterned peasant dress, the front laced up and the ends tied into a tidy ribbon, the skirt was long and flowing and underneath that long skirt was her trademark combat boots. And who would have predicted that she would look down right fashionable. Everyone agreed that no one could pull off such a dress code. But then Prof Myles would look good in a potato sack. It turned out that there was a purpose to why she dressed in this manner but that's getting ahead of the story.

The Professor also attracted attention by her choice of transport, a fiery red Lotus Elise 2011 Model. The car had a dramatic look to complement the owner's animal magnetism. Had she elected to wear an all-leather black suit, no doubt she would look like a panther getting out of the sports car but she didn't and that's probably good for the overall traffic situation on Campus. According to the car maker, the 1.6-litre ZR-FAE Toyota engine produced 100kW at 6800rpm and 160Nm, slotted through a six speed close ratio transmission, made the Lotus Elise one of the most efficient high performance sports car in the world. The car weighed in at only 876kg and could go from zero to 100km/h in 6.7 seconds. Indeed, there was nothing subtle about Professor Myles.

The students in her tutorial groups were manageable; most students from Asia and the Middle East tended to be well behaved. On the first day of class, she sat in the back of the room to observed who's who. Who were the assholes and who were the compliant students. Prior knowledge was always important; and she never disclosed to anyone outside the walls of CSIS that she could understand every word they said. Some thought they could get away with being downright disrespectful and said nasty things like "western slut", "bimbo," and other nasties in their language; they would later come to regret this.

Hollywood has perpetuated the notion that spies wore disguises, to a certain extent yes, but rarely. Mostly they just acted their part, absorbed the persona. It's all about the subtle nuisances. Not bothering with disguises eliminated the problem of forgetting a prop like a pair of eye glasses when one never had to really wear one; the less complications the better. Spies weren't made in the same mold as Superman. In Sabrina's case, the only prop she always carried was her "favourite pen."

Prof Myles had her hands full with three classes per week, each class with an average of 35 students. She wondered how in the real world migrant students learned English in sardine cans with nil opportunity for a one-on-one interaction with tutors. On her first day, she noted three students in her first class with tattoos of the Triad, a gang that originated from Hong kong Island, now a People's Republic of China province; two with very likely Yakuza connection and five others with potential Russian links. The second class wasn't much different only the numbers changed; and so the third. _ Never make assumptions. _She would keep an open mind until she got to know them more.

After roll call in every class her first week, she asked everyone to sit close together, "Class photo of our first day." Students who refused to join in the class photo had their pictures taken anyway, discreetly with her pen, a modified concealed camera and recorder. Face recognition software would have a match sooner or later, either via immigration or Interpol; her bet would be the latter.

The second order of the day was, "Please tell me a little about yourself." Everything said was recorded. Voices would be matched to existing databases of recordings with a sophisticated voice recognition software; the rest stored for future references. She really couldn't get a better cover than this.

Prof Sabrina Myles also let it be known that she preferred to "hang" in the library instead of the staff room, telling everyone who cared to ask,"I want to be in touch with students and to make myself available to them". But the purpose of her lengthy visits to the library was to check on who regularly used the library computers when they had their own; and who loved browsing books but never really read them. And, indeed if they loved browsing, which books and what sections did they frequent. As they say in the trade, dead drops were never more obvious than when amateurs do them.

The first week went by quickly and yielded more information than they had hoped for. Prof Myles found _the_ book where coded messages were being inserted and passed along. But making sense of the "hieroglyphics" would take an extraordinarily long time. Not only that, she sensed she was being watched. The question was by _who. _

_Who indeed? The plot thickens._


	4. Joseph Lin

**Joseph Lin**

Yoh-Lin Tee should be desk bound. But they're short on operatives so he's back on the field working as a Computer Tech in the university's server room. "I have control," he informed Spike the minute he logged on as Joseph Lin, "just like in the movies."

The two enjoyed an easy friendship not bound by decorum or falsities; bound only by mutual trust and many similarities. Mostly, they bantered and played the movie version of spies. The good thing about these two guys was that they didn't take themselves seriously but when push comes to shove they'd be the guys you'd want to have your back.

Sometimes it worried the powers that be that Yoh-Lin had so much free time in his hands, "he seemed too relaxed". Most agents looked stressed out or fatigued, not so this guy, once he came to a "meeting" dressed like Charlie Chaplin. But his place at CSIS has been cemented long ago with an excellent track record. When he was just a young recruit, his immediate superior said in his defence, "It's all about results" when Human Resources challenged why Yoh-Lin didn't obey protocols as "outlined in the manuals" or why he didn't even follow the dress code.

As a proby, he was once called to the Division Head's Office for a severe dressing down, after an exasperating five minute of rant, Yoh-Lin said, "Boss, your face puffs up like a balloon when you're angry." The Director was momentarily shocked into disbelief, "leave my office NOW." That was the last time he was lectured; from then on, it was his immediate superior who got summoned. He has a sneaking suspicion he got promoted to have his own Desk because no one wanted to be his immediate superior. Nonetheless, he had his own Desk with no agents under him. It suited him just fine. He's Boss and yet not responsible for anyone other than himself. If the Top Brass thought this was a punishment, he thought of it as a reward.

Yoh-Lin wasn't just the funny guy who could do Trivial Pursuit with a head set. Not just the guy with dimpled smile, another characteristic he shared with Spike, he was also a self-defence trainer for the intelligence agency. From early on, he wasn't into guns though he was an excellent marksman, he once told his young recruits, "There's no point aiming a gun at anyone if you don't intend to fire it." The implication was clear _when I do aim it you're as good as dead_.

His preferred method was up close and personal, close quarter combat (CQC). CQC has a lot of upside, he told his students, "No collateral damage. You can be sure of the outcome. You can't miss up close. You don't have to reload and you just have to be quicker than the other guy."

He made it clear however there was one downside to this method, "You have to make sure it's all over in two strikes. If it takes you more than two you're dead." A five minute fight scene was just Hollywood, "they want to make it cinematic and all exciting, nothing to do with real life." And because there's no room for error in close quarter combat, Yoh-Lin practiced his art every day.

So now Yoh-Lin was Joseph Lin, another one of his many personas but it didn't matter to this good looking genius, because regardless of what role he's playing, his adopted personality didn't change. He always took on the personality of the "quiet guy." If he could get away playing the part just saying "yes" or "no" the whole time, he'd do it. That's smart! The less he said the less likely he'd make a mistake and the more people talked. After one such role play one of the suspects was overheard saying to another, "I thought he was mute."

Joseph Lin came in early for his day shift, 9 to 5, so he hummed the song mentally. He was going to be the temporary replacement for the morning techie who was currently on an all-expense paid 18-day holiday cruise in Europe. A "prize" for a contest he didn't even remember participating in, but whoever refuses a cruise, especially when it's fully paid for two.

When told of the ploy, Spike asked Yoh-Lin what CSIS planned to do if the case wasn't cracked in 18 days, "send them away for another cruise?" Yoh-Lin thought about it for a second and said, "probably to the bottom of the ocean," Spike showed mocked horror. It's a good thing they don't muck around much when other people were around.

Joseph nodded to the Supervisor, smiled and handed his credentials. He was unceremoniously shown the interior of the server room and given his log on identification. Yoh-Lin became Joseph, quiet, calm, introspective. Yoh-Lin was gone, he would be back after 5pm every day till this assignment was over.

It didn't take long before Joseph "pinged" on a very unusual activity in fact, on just his first day. He noticed five people inside the library has signed on using the same username and password, _what's the chance this individual was at five library computers at the same time in different parts of the library. Unless he's Flash there wasn't a chance_. Another characteristic he shared with Spike was a love of comic book super heroes.

Joseph watched the terminals. There were no sent or received items, but the draft box was close to full. The penny dropped, instantly! _ They were communicating by leaving messages in the draft box. _ And wait for it, he observed, they weren't the same five people every time. _There's a whole army of them retrieving and leaving messages this way. Interesting._

Messages were written in Mandarin_. Fine_, he spoke, read and wrote in the language. _Bring it on!_ He accessed the entries, downloaded them securely and it's puzzle time.

Then, he also noticed something. Someone was piggybacking on him. _Now who'd do that? Who could that be?_

_Who indeed? The plot thickens some more._


	5. SRU First and Foremost

**SRU – First and Foremost**

Consulting with CSIS was fun and interesting. Spike has to admit that the challenge of solving puzzles was entertaining, rewarding and a lot less physically exhausting than being SRU. Keeping the peace in the City the size of Toronto was a monumental task.

In spite of the excitement of Spooksville, Spike was still SRU first and foremost. Anything else played second fiddle including Win but the thing was she knew beforehand what she bargained for. He did ask her if she could do it and her reply was embedded in his photographic memory, "For no other man but you." It did flatter his ego but most importantly to him, he felt secure than no matter what, Win was in for the long haul.

Every day was busy and many times their schedules conflicted, days and nights when they didn't see one another. It did worry Win a little when they hadn't seen each other for three straight days, the longest they've been "apart". She texted, "Hi, are you free to talk?" He was knocked for six when he realised he didn't even noticed how long they've not seen or heard from each other. He called back, "Hello, Miss Sunshine, what's up?"

"Nothing, we have the same days off in two days, I was wondering if you wanted to do anything together." If there was one thing he loved about Win it was the fact she wasn't demanding so he actually felt rotten that he had to say 'no'.

He needed to get through some stuff from CSIS that's fallen behind schedule. There was no way out but he hoped that they could resolve the case in 18 days, although deep down he had his doubts. Information was flooding in and the sooner he could attend to it the better. It also didn't help the guilt factor that most things he did for CSIS were on 'need to know' basis so he just had to be vague with Win, "Sorry, Miss Sunshine, I've got things I gotta work on. I'll be really busy for the next, um, 18 days at least. I'll make it up to you. Promise."

They chatted some more and mostly talked about the "kids", the canines Liley and Moppet, who Spike hadn't seen much lately. When they ended the call, Spike felt much better but Win didn't. She was disappointed but more so because she felt like a mushroom, kept in the dark and fed manure. And she didn't like it one bit. And who could fault her? She didn't account for CSIS when she made her decision; at any rate, she'll just have to continue to make a life for herself. That she was good at.

During the same week on the same day as that phone conversation with Win, Team One didn't finished on time with a hostage stand-off going overtime. At one point, Spike had wanted to call out "Scorpio" just to end the ongoing saga all for an unpaid debt. Good thing he wasn't the Boss because he could really feel his fuse getting shorter and shorter and he was generally the placid guy.

It was to his relief that he learned during debrief that everyone was feeling exactly the same. Raf commented that he wanted to "shoot the bastard" himself. He was that annoyed. The Team had been on a high rotation for a week and it's made everyone feel antsy_. A holiday would be good just about NOW_, he thought.

And then of course, there were the courses he had to finish and the repair on Babycakes to do. Boy, when it rained, it poured.

He got home late to an empty apartment. Although she stayed over a lot, Win decided to keep her own flat for as long as they weren't married which he thought was fair enough. The arrangement worked well because it gave him space to do his consulting work at home, in his own space. He thought plainly if he had to go to the CRIB to do it, he'd lose the plot entirely.

Win must have only just gone home because the pasta in the oven was still warm, he called her to say, "thanks." They chatted some more till she got him off the hook, "You sound tired Angel boy, get some rest. I'll see you soon." Angel boy was her preferred terms of endearment, a nod to his real name and the_ boy_ bit was just because he's Peter Pan.

Spike was grateful for the feed. He changed into his batman pajamas and sat in front of the monitor. It didn't take him long to realised that something was off, waaaay off. "What the?" Spike called Yoh-Lin, "Get your butt in here."

Yoh-Lin's swift reply was, "In 15."

The two conferred in the kitchen, drinking copious amount of coffee. Spike asked, "So who do you reckon sent us the slavebot?"

Slavebot is a new generation Trojan horse, a code devised years ago to take advantage of a security flaw in older versions of Internet Explorer and Google Chrome. Essentially, it used the host computer as an anonymizer proxy to effectively hide internet usage. But among the many malicious things it could do was to steal secure data. The first generation of Trojan horses tended to leave their tracks in the page view histories of the host computer but newer generations of the Trojan horse tend to "cover" their tracks more efficiently. Slavebot was the most widely used the new generation Trojan horse.

The Master Spy was unperturbed, he's been in this situation before, "Don't know who but we need to draw them out. Any ideas?"

Spike was in the mood to be devious, "Let's send them back their slavebot with false info and let's see who comes out of the woodwork."

But Yoh-Lin had an idea of his own, "Or, we could just ask them, what do you think?"

Spike smiled and said, why not? "Just please use your computer, mine's not available. Right now, I have a slavebot to swat, this is going to take some time. By the way," Spike pointed a finger at Yoh-Lin, "this is my last assignment. When we're done with this, I'm done playing spy with you."

Yoh-Lin just laughed, "So say you." Before Spike could volley back, the Master Spy was gone!

_Who'll come out of the wood work? Your guess is as good as mine!_


	6. A Game of Cat and Mouse

**A Game of Cat and Mouse**

Sabrina didn't have prescribed days off! With a "glamorous job" like spying, one didn't expect any. So on a day like today when she's free from either tutoring or surveilling suspects in the library, she was to be reporting in with her handler, Joseph who technically was her Boss, for now.

The problem was Sabrina has picked up a tail, she was sure that she's seen the same guy three times. The first time when she was getting into her car, the second at the traffic light three corners from her house and now across the road from the café where she's waiting for Joseph. She noted that her tail was about 6' feet (about 183 cm more or less), weighed around 160 pounds, (72 kgs, give or take a few) and could handle himself. She surmised that he would either be a foreign operative or if she's very unlucky a nasty thug, a mercenary or a stalker – take your pick.

She read a novel while waiting for coffee to be served, her phone beeped, she picked it up but didn't say a word, not even a hello. It was Joseph. "You've got a tail." To which she replied, "Yeah, been following me since I left home. How do you want us to handle this?"

Sometimes the only way to get things done in Spooksville was to play games. Joseph reckoned that the tail was alone, he suggested, "Let's play cats to our mouse." Understood, Sabrina paid for the coffee. She strolled towards a row of houses which was likely to have a back alley or a side street. It didn't take long for the tail to follow suit, Joseph followed discreetly. When he had a pretty good idea where Sabrina was leading the tail, he ran on ahead.

Sabrina arrived at a cul-de-sac still pretending to be oblivious to the man behind her. When she got to his blind spot, she double backed and "bumped" into her tail. Just then Joseph appeared behind the man. Before the tail knew what was happening, Joseph had twisted his arm behind him and pushed him against the wall of a house. Joseph patted him down, fished out his wallet, opened it, and looked at Sabrina with a scowl, "Garry Smith, RCMP."

Sabrina sighed, _happens every single bloody time._

"Just need to get this sorted," Joseph made a call and Garry's identity checked out. He wasn't sure who was more annoyed, him, Sabrina or Garry. _Time to talk._ The trio headed to a safe house, there was no way this guy was going to get invited to the CRIB. "Talk," said the usually unflappable Joseph.

"We've been following a lead about an organised crime syndicate targeting foreign students. I've been undercover since the start of semester. She," pointing to Sabrina with his chin, "has been acting suspiciously plus she's new on staff. I was following to find out if she's their recruiter." Fair enough.

Now it was Garry's turn, "So what are you guys up to?"

"We're trying to uncover a terror sleeper cell. There's a lot of chatter overseas that paints a rather nasty picture over this side."

Garry was in no mood to play nice, "I don't know buddy, you guys have got to get your fingers out where they don't belong."

"Excuse me," Sabrina interjected angrily, "What do you mean?"

"Hey, you're a spy agency, you have no purview domestically. If I'm not mistaken, you ought to be passing on the information to RCMP, Anti-Terror Unit. Aren't you supposed to be like the CIA, overseas only?"

"Don't lecture us on our mandate and our purview. Our remit is to protect Canada and we will do our job the way we see fit. And don't worry yourself about what we ought to be doing or not. When the time comes to make an arrest, RCMP Anti-Terror Unit will get the glory and if we have to terminate anyone we'll take them across the border", that was Joseph in all his sarcastic glory.

"Buddy, we're on the same side right, aren't we? We should save taxpayers' money and cooperate, you guys tell us what you have and we'll give you what we have. Quid pro quo. Nicely done." Point taken, after all, Joseph was a reasonable man, "Arrange it with your Boss. We'll meet back here tomorrow at 7am. We're hot on the tail of a sleeper cell and we can't be stumbling and tripping all over each other."

Sabrina jumped in with, "Are you operating alone?" She has sensed that she's being watched closely and she wasn't convinced it was just by Garry.

"As far as I know, yeah, I'm alone. We're so short staffed it's not funny."

Sabrina exhaled, "Someone's been watching me. If we can link up, we can be the cats to their mouse." Garry didn't see anything wrong with the suggestion, anything to get close to the hot chick that was Sabrina Myles, would be a bonus. He's been observing her,_ she moves like a cat_, fluid and languid.

Joseph had to get back to the server room, "I'm cutting it fine. I don't want to be late for work it will raise a red flag." With that he was off and away. Sabrina was left to compare notes with Garry.

Meanwhile Spike spent the night swatting the slavebot from his computer and had success after he chased it away with a potent virus removal software and used an electronic scrubber to erase any residual tracks and infections. When he was done, he was satisfied that his computer was virus and spyware free but more than that he really, really wanted to know who was on the other side. Spike has heard the expression curiosity killed the cat, he just didn't listen.

Spike sent his own bot to the other side with false information, "Let's see who you are." The Wolf was pleased with himself. He has sniffed a scent and he wasn't going to let go. The other side received the bot and acted on it. No one knew it yet but the trail that would be uncovered would crisscross the globe from North to South, East to West.

Spike shouldn't have done that. He really shouldn't have because his life would be tipped upside down! In more ways than one.

_Poor, poor Spike!_


	7. Piggy on My Back, Crime Boss on My Ass

**Piggy on My Back and Crime boss on My Ass**

Joseph has his own mystery to solve. _Who's piggybacking on me_? He could make it hard or easy on himself, he chose easy. _I've got nothing to lose. If they're piggybacking on my "search" we can only be on the same side._ He let the other guys know he knew then he prepared to wait patiently. His patience wasn't tested or tried because the reply was almost instantaneous. The charade was over, at least from his end. Little did he know there would be more to follow!

His inbox had a very interesting message, "Where and when?" Spook's short speak for _let's rendezvous._ He messaged back to an email address that was using a super spoofed IP address with a discreet location in the university campus. Heck if they knew to ping the university server, they sure knew where he was, he wasn't fooling anyone. He picked a location where few people milled around and where he could expect to have covering fire; 3pm. He contacted Sabrina who as expected has a sniper rifle handy for just this sort of occasion.

At 2.45pm, Sabrina for the first time in weeks has discarded her colourful peasant dress for a pair of tight denims, a tight black T-shirt and her usual combat boots. Her modified sniper rifle discreetly packed inside a guitar case. She perched on the rooftop and aimed the cross hairs of her rifle at an approaching man, then she realised, men. He brought with him three covering fires. _Blimey_, _this better not go south._

Joseph squinted his eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun. The greying man approaching looked familiar; of course he was familiar, it's none other than his Chinese counterpart. They've met on several occasions on matters of national security. Joseph, who doesn't EVER drop his cover, shook his head, muttered the Mandarin equivalent of "What the fuck?" to himself. Sabrina smiled.

Guo Ta Ren, China's expert on "North America" which of course included Canada in its remit, smiled, extended out his hands and gave his anglicised name, "I'm sure you remember, Darren Guo." Joseph returned the smile, "How can I forget? Your face appears every time I blink." The two men have mutual respect, key to _any_ bilateral meetings.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" Spookspeak for _let's leave our covering fire behind_.

The conversation was done in Mandarin since both men were fluent in the language. It's also deference to the older gentleman; and the fact that although he was raised Canadian, in the eyes of his counterpart he's still Chinese. Joseph was not one to score points, as a rule, he chooses his battles, _the only way to win the war_.

"Tell me straight," Joseph didn't beat around the bush; neither did Darren Guo, "We're tracking a high level threat. An organised crime syndicate has been victimising newly arrived Chinese students to commit illegal acts both here and in China. We have a common enemy, my friend."

Joseph nodded his acknowledgment. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_, the golden rule of espionage. "What do you propose?"

"We're willing to swap information for yours. If you're not willing, we'll just have to piggyback on your efforts," Mr Guo said with a genuine smile. Joseph gave him a time and a place for further discussion.

One's out of the woodwork, he had a hunch that this went further than Canada and China. _What's the bet the CIA's round the corner, not to mention the Brits._ _Honestly, as long as the Aussies weren't involved, I'd be just fine._ He spoke too soon.

There was another email, it was from Spike. "I've cleaned my computer and I sent their bot back with a false info. Let's see who comes out of the woodwork."

Joseph sent Spike a text message, "What'd you say, man?"

Spike replied, "We got the package."

"What package?"

"Who cares? It's innocuous enough to _maybe_ touch a nerve." (smiley with a wink).

"Cover your ass." (bouncing smiley). "And, about to convene a mini UN, will keep you posted."

In a secure facility somewhere, a "stolen data" was retrieved, crack opened and taken very seriously indeed, all Spike said in that allegedly secure, confidential, 'for your eyes only' email supposedly addressed to the Canadian Prime Minister was "We got the package." Four innocent looking words, **WE GOT THE PACKAGE**.

The crime geek reported the "discovery" to the head of the crime syndicate, "Boss, they intercepted our package, I got the secure email to prove it." The crime boss was enraged, "call everyone" and by that he meant all available North American based henchmen. There were two tasks: find the package and eliminate the person who has it!

Spike certainly didn't have it, heck he never even had it at all, but they sure thought he did! He would, in the coming days, have to rely on Sabrina and Joseph to save his ass; but not till this whole saga ripped his life apart starting with Winnie, and his "kids" as collateral.

Back in the Campus, Sabrina still has to draw out her watchers, whoever they were. There was no easy way to do it. She had to put in her lot with Garry Smith though she wasn't sure if he could be trusted. _No choice, he's all I've got_.

The cat and mouse game continued. She continued to live her life on Campus as if oblivious to the prying eyes, Garry kept watch. After 12 hours on the clock, he got eyes on one of them, and it wasn't who they expected at all. They would have to lift him to find out more.

Meanwhile, CSIS' code cracker have been trying to unlock the secrets of the "hieroglyphics". It's just a matter of time before they know what it meant. And then the race was on!


	8. Spike's Day Off from Hell

**Spike's Day off from Hell**

The day started well! Spike woke up from a good night sleep, considering he's been up most nights the last five days, he really deserved it. He was either studying till late, working on shift at SRU or sifting through "chatters" and staying alert for more slavebots trying to invade his machine.

He remembered it was Winnie's day off, too. They can't do anything special together but he could at least call and ask if she'd want to have breakfast with him at the apartment. "Miss Sunshine, care to join me for breakfast?" he asked cheerily.

"Are you sure? You won't stand me up?" Spike laughed, he really missed her, very much.

"course I'm sure. I miss you."

"I miss you, too. I've gotta bring Liley and Moppet with me, they miss you, too."

"Can't wait," he said excitedly.

"Be there in half an hour. Oh, do you want me to bring anything?"

"No, just you and the girls. Ti amo."

"Love you, too."

Well, see, it all started nicely but it all went downhill very quickly from there. When Win arrived at the apartment he wasn't there to greet them, not that she expected a welcoming committee but she couldn't even get him to come out of his room. She knocked, "Breakfast's ready." She got a "One moment."

Five minutes passed, Winnie knocked again, "Spike?" All she got was, "Coming, won't be long." _Story of my life,_ she told herself. After another ten minutes she was ready to say goodbye and she didn't think anything of just opening the door slightly, peeping in and waving goodbye to the love of her life.

But when she opened the door, she saw a very scantily clad Sam Miller aka Sabrina Myles on the supersized monitor having a very chatty, flirty meeting with Spike. He only knew something was amiss when Sam motioned for him to look behind him, he turned around and there was Win standing in the room in shock and in tears!

"Miss Sunshine, it's not what you think! It's not!" She looked at him with tear stained eyes, "And how do you even know what I think?" If she had screamed, kicked and punched him he would have been fine. But all she did was wipe her tears and walk out. He heard her say, "Come on, Liley. Moppet, come. We've got to go. Dad's busy."

He turned back to the monitor and Sam motioned for him to "Go, do what you have to do." Spike chased her all the way down to the car, "Please don't go. I was just having a business meeting with her. It's not what you think." But even to his own ears, he sounded **absolutely **ridiculous.

"Help me understand, she's having a meeting with you at 8 in the morning, wearing a barely there bikini and you expect me to believe there's nothing going on. You must really, really, really think I'm stupid." And the way Win said stupid really cut him.

"No, I don't. Please don't go."

Win looked at her feet, "You know what in spite of what my eyes saw in there, I still believe you but I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be your appendix. I can't be in or out and it wouldn't matter. I understand that you're important. That what you _may be_ doing is important but it doesn't mean because I understand, it doesn't hurt." She loaded the dogs in her car, before she drove off, she said, "When you find the time in your very busy schedule, we should discuss Liley and Moppet."

Spike went back to his meeting with Sam who apologised for her part in what happened. There wasn't anything else that he could do but hope this saga ends quickly so he could get back to the life he knew. He didn't ask for this and Win certainly didn't.

His CSIS issued mobile beeped, it was Yoh-Lin aka Joseph Lin telling him to get his ass to the CRIB ASAP. He wasn't keen, but he also wanted this over and done with. The sooner they all batten down the sooner, he hoped, it would be over_. It's just a matter of crushing an organised crime syndicate that has seemingly close ties to a sleeper terror cell_, _how hard could that be?_ He cajoled himself.

Spike arrived at the CRIB in a sour mood. It was standing room only, then it struck him what Yoh-Lin meant by, "I'm about to convene a mini UN." Before the mini summit commenced, another three joined in. Sam Miller introduced her companions as Garry smith, RCMP and Bryce Cameron, Australian SAS.

_Cameron,_ he thought, _the last name sound familiar, Billy!_ Now he could see the similarities, same bluey-green eyes and same facial shape. _What the hell is going on?_ He looked around him, _who would have thought that the world actually crawled with spooks?_ _They did come out of the rocks they were hiding in!_

To make a long story short, the Chinese were piggybacking on the Canadian's investigation. The Americans on the Chinese. The Brits on the Americans. The Aussies on the Brits. The Indonesians on the Aussies. _Wait, did you say the Indonesians? _ Bryce Cameron raised a finger, smiled cheekily and in a very thick Australia twang said, "I've got A.B. Shinawang on the phone, we might as well have him on board, yeah? Bumped into him purposedly by accident." In five minutes, the Indonesian spook was inside the CRIB. "See, that was easy," joked the Aussie SAS.

Now, it's all hands on deck and all cards on the table. They shared the same mantra: _my enemy's enemy is my friend._ They've got to work together to crush the underworld that was, at this very minute, moving suicide bombers into the US via the Canadian border through a people smuggling ring. And who were moving drugs by the cargo load into England from Indonesia via China. Somehow, they were all linked in the same giant chain of contraband that circled the world.

The unfortunate foot soldiers were overseas English language students of all nationalities. Unwittingly hooked in by easy money and what they thought was an operation that was undetectable, until one Yoh-Lin Tee aka Joseph Lin stumbled on their method of operation.

The spies would have to follow the trails backwards. Starting from the foot soldiers accessing the library computers and tracing the instructions back to the source, and the path will crisscross from North to South, East to West.

But there was one lose end, what was the coded message in the library book about? Did that have anything to do with the sleeper terror cell? If it did, who or what was the target? Did they stumble on two separate criminal activities? Were the two intertwined? It was clear CSIS couldn't do it alone, it needed to engage the top five spy agencies to crack the code. The chatters were coming thick and fast. The questions were piling up and no ready answers to any of them. The meeting was adjourned and will be reconvened as soon as the codes were cracked.

After the meeting, Sam introduced Bryce Cameron to Spike. "He was my tail." For the first time the two Wolves were introduced but they didn't know the significance of this meeting yet. Garry smith told them it was only "by chance" he pinged Bryce, "he answered his bloody phone, and this thick Aussie accent filled the air."

Bryce was very good natured about it, "It was one moment of stupidity." It was Sam who decided it would be difficult to lift an Aussie SAS so she just walked up to him and said, "You're it." Hide and seek over.

After hob-knobbing with spooks and black operatives, Spike remembered to turn his phone on. There were 20 missed calls from Winnie. His heart thumped in his chest, she **never** called these many times before, ever. He dialled her number, Steph, Winnie's BFF answered.

"Spike, it's Steph, Win's sleeping now, I gave her some sedative. She's had a very hard day. Someone's poisoned Liley. She's touch and go. We're at the Pet Hospital." Spike bolted out of the CRIB and everyone froze. Spike was never one to react like that, Sam thought, _it can't be good!_

In the meantime, a mole contacted the Crime Boss, "the one who has the package was someone code named: Wolf".

The question now was: which one? The Aussie or the Canuck.

_The hunt begins._


	9. Spike's Evening from Hell

**Spike's Evening from Hell**

_The whole world can get washed down to the bottom of the ocean, I couldn't care less._ This was Spike's thought the entire time he was driving from the CSIS building to the Pet Hospital. And if anybody at that very moment stopped him for anything, there would be hell to pay. He was highly strung and COULD EVERYONE JUST PLEASE GET OUT OF MY WAY!

The peak hour traffic was bad. The shortest distance was via the freeway but it was bumper-to-bumper traffic and he's now stuck in the middle of it. Spike thumped the steering wheel in anger, and he wasn't holding back on the poor car. He was infuriated! He couldn't reverse back to take another route, there was no room to maneuver so he tried his darndest to calm down. The minute he had a chance to exit the freeway, he took it. The way was longer but the traffic was much better; he was relieved to reach the Hospital before visiting time was over.

Spike was inquiring at the reception desk when Steph came out of the lift," Steph, how's Win?"

"She's sleeping. I had no choice about the sedative. Spike, she's in agony, physically. She lifted Liley when she was convulsing and ran her to her car. Then she had to go back for Moppet. I mean Liley's over 35 pounds, and with the convulsion and all…. she's hurt."

"But, it wasn't just that, she was in shock. Apparently, she was very calm when they reached the hospital. They were saying how amazing she was but once they got Liley to the theatre, she fainted. One of the Vet Assistant caught her just before she hit the floor."

"Where's Liley?"

"I don't know. We have to ask Reception. I haven't had time to check on Liley. Her Mom and Dad took Moppet home."

They walked over to Reception and they were told Liley was moved out of theatre to the Pet Hospital's kennel three hours ago and under observation. "It's still touch and go," the Vet said, "we will know more after 24 hours."

"Spike, I've got to go, I've been here for five hours and my head's starting to spin." He said thanks and gave Steph a hug. "She's upstairs, they let her sleep in the staff room. Spike, you've got to get home. She can't sleep there it would do her back in. I've asked but she refused to leave Liley."

He rubbed his face then climbed the stairs two at a time. Winnie was sleeping hunched over on a two-seater couch. S_he shouldn't have had to deal with this on her own. _He stealthily approached her sleeping form. She was on sedative so he was sure that he could get her home without waking her. But first he had to see Liley. The attending vet was still around so he has able to get an idea of Liley's care and prognosis. He feared he brought this on to his family so he was relieved to be told that Liley was the fifth canine to be poisoned in the street where she lived. But it didn't assuage his guilt for not being there for his girls.

He gave his direct number to the Vet, "I'm taking Winnie home, please call me if…." The vet nodded her acquiescence, "she's gonna be ok." It was the wrong thing to say, but how was she to know? Spike's brain went into spasm, PLEASE CAN EVERYONE PLEASE STOP SAYING IT'S GONNA BE OK! But to his credit, he maintained a cool façade.

He carried Winnie to his car and now had to decide where to take her. He couldn't possibly take her back to her flat where someone was poisoning canines but would it upset her to be at his place? He didn't care, she would have to be with him, regardless and if it upsets her, so be it!

When they arrived at his secure building, he immediately noticed that his curtains were drawn, it was open this morning when he left! Spike's evening from hell wasn't over! But his priority was Winnie's safety so he reversed back and brought her home. They entered her flat and to his surprise it looked like a flower shop. He laid her down and made her comfortable on her bed. The flowers intrigued him. He read the names on the card, "Tony," "Freddy," "Richard" he paused, "Jess." _Wow, it didn't long for the boys next door to come out of the forest._

He was starving, _when was the last time I ate_? The answer was last night. This morning he had a tiff with Winnie. He got called to a meeting at CSIS in the afternoon and now this. He went to the fridge and helped himself to food. He was preparing to go to sleep himself when he felt something, a sensation of danger, a sixth sense. His hackles went up. His eyes narrowed. He checked on Winnie to make sure she was out of harm's way, unclipped his Glock and scoped the street outside behind the curtains.

He thought he saw a form. A shadowy form. He decided to forego sleep and to move out ASAP, he was going to draw the shadowy form out and as far away from his family as he possibly can. Unbeknown to him, there was another one on his tail, a protector. So it would be a game of a predator, stalking another predator being stalked by another. The hunt has begun in earnest.

Before he left, he gave Winnie a kiss, said 'I love you' like she could hear him. On his way out, he gathered all the flowers and tossed them in the bin outside. If she was going to get flowers, they'd all be coming from him! There!


	10. Bryce Cameron: Nickname Wolf

**Bryce Cameron: Nickname Wolf**

When Spike bolted out the CSIS building, Bryce Cameron, Australian SAS was hot on his tail. Super Geek didn't notice for he was focused on his mission to get to his loved ones. His attention narrowed to that singular goal, get his ass to the Pet Hospital. **NOW.** He wanted to be there half an hour ago.

Bryce followed three cars back, he knew there was trouble, what he didn't care to know. All he was aware of was this man called Spike won't be alive to tell the tale if he didn't get his ass in gear. The SAS man also knew when he needed help. He didn't know the "terrain" of Toronto. He was an outback man, a desert man, a trench man; he was rarely ever assigned to urban warfare. He called his little sister Billy. Between brother and sister, they didn't do amenities, it was straight to business, "Billy, you know where Spike lives?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Get there NOW, it's a hunch… but be careful , there could be trouble. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Recce only and call for back-up. Understood?"

"Yeah, understood."

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Reece only and call for backup."

"And don't do anything stupid."

"Me, do anything stupid? When did I ever?" They both laughed and said, "I love you" at the same time.

Billy changed into her burglar suit Raf was watching, _oh yeah_, _every time she got changed into that , there's trouble_. So Raf did what he'd always did to protect Reckless Billy, "I'm comin with you."

"No, you can't."

"Well, I'm comin or you're shootin your way out of my place."

So Raf came along. In the car, Billy told Raf what she knew. "So what made you think Spike's in trouble." Billy looked at Raf disbelievingly, "Seriously? You need me to spell it out to you. My brother is a Black Operative, when he's in town, there's trouble. There's no two ways about it."

When Spike got to his place with Winnie and found the curtains drawn, that was Billy and Raf just finishing their business, tying up two thugs sent to get Spike. When Yoh-Lin heard from the police scanner, he thought, _two down,_ _how many to go_? It's anybody's guess. But CSIS has already prepped emergency services, anything to do with one Michaelangelo Scarlatti, everything and anything, patch it to RCMP, Anti-Terror Unit, it's just protocol.

Anti-Terror Units around the world, from America to Timbuktu didn't do Respect, Protect, Connect. Time was in short supply so the two thugs were taken for _some lovin and some carin, and sent where accommodation, medical services and food would be free for the rest of their natural lives._

Bryce Cameron passed Special Forces selection 12 years ago as a young 25 year old Trooper. It was all he ever wanted to be. By the time he joined the Australian Infantry two older brothers had joined the military service, following a long line of tradition. Eventually, two more brothers would follow suit, and a little sister called Billy.

There was only one known Australian wolf, the Thylacine, also known by their common names Tasmanian Tiger or Tasmanian Wolf. The last known Thylacine died in Hobart zoo in 1936 and is said to be extinct. Bryce chose the nickname Wolf for himself and he stayed true to character.

Five years ago, he was assigned to protect a Somalian bush hospital ran by a lone French doctor with Medecins san Frontieres (Doctor without Borders). Dr Michelle Bouvier was ten years older but he couldn't help falling in love with her. She was brave and kind and soft spoken and had a beautiful laughter. And he loved the way she spoke English.

He loved her but he wasn't allowed by his uniform and his sworn duty to become romantically involved with someone he was protecting, so he loved her from a distance. But she knew, and he knew that she knew. It was a love so deep that he was prepared to disobey orders should it come, and came it did. He was the Commander of the six men unit assigned to protect the Somalian bush hospital. One day they were instructed to take her out and leave everyone behind. He knew she wouldn't, and if she wouldn't, he couldn't. And since Special Forces teams operated on an "all for one and one for all" basis, he asked his men if they were willing to extract everyone, to a man, they said they did.

His team comprised of two Foreign French Legionnaire, two Brits SAS, and two Australian SAS that included himself. They trekked 300 klicks from the bush hospital to Dadaab in Kenya where UNHCR was operating the biggest refugee camps in the world. On the trek with them were 30 people, 10 of them children under 5. They moved on foot with a baby boy of 12 months strapped to his back.

They only engaged hostiles once; a group of bandits after women and boys to turn into boy soldiers; when the firefights was over, Dr Bouvier laid dying on the grounds of the Somalian desert just 25 _**bloody**_ klicks to the Kenyan border. Before she passed away, she made him promise to take the refugees across to safety, he fulfilled the promise but Lance-Corporal Bryce Cameron was never the same.

The 12 month old boy was named Rajo, the Somali word for HOPE. Right now, at this very hour, Rajo would be playing Australian footy with his mates. He's growing up to be a Cameron, in the Australian outback somewhere in the middle of Queensland. Six year old Rajo has only ever called Bryce "Dad". The only living memory he has of the most beautiful creation God has ever made, Dr Michelle Bouvier. Lance-Corporal Cameron has but one dream left in him, Rajo would never see war.

Now, this SAS Man was fighting the good fight with people he never even knew existed until two weeks ago when he got his assignment. He followed Spike from CSIS, to the Pet Hospital, to his home and now to Winnie's apartment. In the dark was a shadow. The shadow was laying in wait for Spike. **No**, there were shadows. Two of them… Spike came out of the house, jumped in his car, drove off and the shadows followed but the _Shadow Chaser_ wasn't far behind.

_The hunt continues._


	11. Michaelangelo Spike Scarlatti

In order to fully appreciate this chapter please read, "Hell Hath No Fury" if you haven't already, but it wouldn't subtract from your enjoyment of this chapter if you don't care to.

Thank you.

**Michaelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti: Code Name Wolf**

Spike was just Spike until CSIS asked for help and Yoh-Lin Tee gave him a handle; a codename. Yoh-Lin chose the handle himself all because he liked Wolverine. He was a super heroes comic man after all. So it was really only by coincidence that Spike shared Cameron's SAS nickname.

But the story went further back in time, when Winnie was abducted by a loony tune and Spike went off the grid to find her. Lance-Corporal Bryce Cameron was visiting Billy en route to another destination and met with Team One. Bryce heard stories about Spike from his T1 teammates and his sister Billy; Spike, they said, was a dog by nature. Scarlatti was described as playful, inquisitive, loyal and a babbling sort of a genius.

Bryce made a comment to them that they may have mistaken Spike for a dog, when in fact he was a wolf by nature. There only eight people there that night. Greg Parker, Ed Lane, Raf Rousseau, Kevin 'Wordy' Wordsworth, Jules Callaghan, Sam Braddock, Billy and Bryce Cameron. The story was never repeated; not even to Spike. So, really it was by mere coincidence that he shared Cameron's nickname.

But the crime boss was told by a mole that the person who had his package was code named Wolf and he was willing to bet his bottom dollar that it was none other than the Canuck. "Can't be the Aussie, he only just got into Canada two weeks ago." The deduction was pretty accurate except Spike never had the package though he claimed he did!

So now the henchmen were let loose, two down and two more on his tail. Spike was cunning, a geek with combat skills. He knew he had to dictate the tempo of this warfare, he has to choose the terrain and he has to choose carefully. He drove as fast as his car would go. His destination was the SRU kill house. This was where SRU practices for entry and the kill. He knew the layout of the house like the palm of his hands, every room, every floor, every wall. He parked as close to the practice yard as he can, bolted out of his car, scaled the fence and ran for the house.

The henchmen followed, Cameron was on their tails. The SAS guy knew it was going to be _just fine and dandy _when he guessed where the Northern Wolf was leading his two prey. The Southern Wolf sat on the fence, Spike didn't need him. But he called Yoh-Lin, "Get your boys to the SRU kill house you need to mop up ASAP."

But Spike had no intention of killing these two, ah, ah. Spike was not into killing people. He didn't join the SRU to give people their expiration date but he did believe in giving them their date with Lady Justice. After 15 minutes of silence, the Southern Wolf decided to check the kill house he might have overestimated Spike's abilities. But he didn't.

Before entering, Cameron called out he didn't want to be shot by a friendly or unfriendly fire. "Spike! It's Cameron!" Spike replied, "Over here." He guided the SAS man with the flashlight of his Glock. The two thugs were cuffed to each other on the floor. RCMP Anti-Terror Unit arrived to give their guests _some lovin, some carin, free accommodation and medical services and free food for the rest of their natural lives._ Time was in short supply and they still didn't have enough information. The first two didn't know much, they hope these two knew a bit more.

Cameron spoke first, "What now?"

"I've got to get back to Win."

The two men drove back and Cameron hoped in his heart she was still there… he had a feeling. Spike had a feeling. They drove as quickly as their cars would go. They both parked 200 metres away from the house. It was dark, totally dark. The windows closed, the curtains drawn and you could cut the tension in half. The atmosphere was thick with anxiety and an anticipation of a kill. Cameron and Scarlatti recced the house. Spike went underneath, and from the slats of the floor boards he could see two pairs of feet and he was sure none of the ugly feet were Winnie's.

He hand signalled Cameron, two men. They left the perimeter, "She's alive because they need her to draw you out. Just open the door, walk in and I'll be right behind you. We'll have one each." Spike was not going to argue the finer points of the entry, he just said, "Let's go."

Another rule of warfare, **do the unexpected**. If they were waiting for you by the window, go through the door and that's what Spike and Cameron did. Spike wasn't quiet about it either. He whistled a tune to alert the thugs he was just about to get in the door. The door opens inward and swung to the right, so he knew the thug would on the left side of the door. He opened the door and the thug who was a-waiting didn't know what hit him.

Cameron was inside the living room in a split second and had the second man in a headlock. No fire power, that was too noisy and too primitive. RCMP Anti-Terror Unit was called to haul the two off for _some lovin, some carin, free accommodation and medical services and food for the rest of their natural lives._ They learned that second pair of thugs knew a bit more than the first, and they're hoping these fresh pair would know more than the others. Sometimes, all it takes was luck.

But the code crackers weren't having any luck at all. They were stumped! A hundred people with IQs ranging from 160 to 180 couldn't make head and tail of the code. Spike had an epiphany! _Maybe they were over thinking it, maybe they're making it more complicated than it really is. _That's a thought. He called Yoh-Lin, "I've got an idea about the code." Before they drove off to the CRIB, Spike went to check on Winnie. She was fine, still asleep and none the wiser of the drama that just unfolded. Spike said a quick prayer of thanks.

For the first time, in a very long time, Spike and Yoh-Lin were going to enjoy playing puzzle. And Sam? She couldn't be left out, she has a suspicion there's a mole, and she's going to catch herself one_. Let the boys play, I'll have my own entertainment._

_Who's the mole? _


	12. Cracking the Code and Catching a Mole

**Cracking the Code and Catching a Mole**

There were only four souls inside the CRIB late that night, Yoh-Lin, Sam, Spike and Bryce. They gathered around the conference table, each with a copy of the code. First off, they noticed four symbols that kept repeating throughout the page. "Guys, the code crackers focused on the four repeating symbols, so far no result," said Yoh-Lin. _But it must be important_.

_Could it be longtitude and latitude?_ Nope.

_Could it be part of a postcode?_ Nope

_Could it be an address?_ Nope

They referred to the German devised World War I Engima Code. It didn't work. They referred to the "Windtalker" Navajo Indian American code used in World War II. It didn't fit. They tried every available existing code – **nothing!** They tried using cybermetrics, no use.

It was so complicated. But in the end they found out that Spike's hunch was right, it was all so simple. Spike suggested they redact all the repeating symbols. So they each got hold of a black marker pen and covered up all the repeating four symbols and they were left with a page that showed white gaps - some short, some long. And instantly, they all said in unison, "MORSE CODE."

The symbols didn't mean crap at all, they were there as distraction, fluff. It was the short, short, long, long, gaps on the page that told them everything they needed to know. Now, they couldn't risk telling anyone anything at all. The four of them knew and that's how they were going to play it.

The Morse code identified the location of the package, they looked at each other and with a nod they went to the address. THE PACKAGE WAS STILL THERE ALL ALONG. Funny that! Imagine that! Spike sent them false information supposedly addressed to the Canadian Prime Minister, all it said was WE GOT THE PACKAGE and they believed it! They didn't bother to check their own hideout. How about that_? _**Sometimes all you need is luck.**

Now it was only a matter of finding out what was in the package. The minute they laid eyes on it, Bryce knew what it was! He's seen one before. Correction, he's intercepted one before, en route to Israel. It was a nuclear bomb, the size of a backpack and in fact carried in one! Again, they couldn't risk anyone else knowing, Bryce advised it was safe to handle as long as it was not armed. They were sure it wasn't. So they took it back with them to the CRIB. With the package secured, they just need to flush out the mole. Before they could talk about catching one, Sam asked the boys to toast the occasion, they were all for it, then she said, "I know who the mole is."

Yoh-Lin perked up, "Who?"

"Garry Smith." The men sat up, _this is interesting_. "And I intend to prove it. We need to be at this address," she handed them a calling card, "tomorrow at 7am, if we don't catch him red-handed, I'm not Sam Miller." _You gotta love the woman's self-confidence._

Sam Miller left a false text message on her phone with a location, true to her suspicion the mole has been accessing her messages and the only person who ever got close enough to her, other than Spike and Yoh-Lin was Garry Smith.

But first on the agenda was sleep. They were dog tired and with 7am still five hours away any snooze time they could manage was better than none but Spike was worried for Winnie and Liley. He told his buddy Yoh-Lin that he's best be going home because he was done for the day. Yoh-Lin said he understood but asked for him to be at the address by 7am tomorrow. Spike said, "No problem."

Spike went home to Winnie, who was up and feeling panicked_. How did I get here? Where's Moppet and Liley? _She was crying her heart out when Spike walked in the door, he paused, "What's wrong?"

Poor Winnie, "I… don't know… how I … got… here?" She said between hiccup and sob. "Where's Liley and Moppet?" She wanted to be hysterical but she needed to think. And she felt a lot of pain on her back and it all came back to her. "Is Liley dead? Is she gone?"

Spike held her close and told her soothingly, "No, Liley's in the hospital. She's gonna be ok. I know she'll be ok. I brought you home last night." And then she just cried and cried and cried on his chest because she felt disoriented and feared for her babies and she felt so alone. "It's gonna be alright." So that night for the first time in about a week, they slept close together.

At 7am the following morning, Garry Smith and a bunch of lackeys arrived to take their package away. Waiting for him was Yoh-Lin Tee, who coolly said, "I don't have to read you your rights, you have none." This was the big fish, if there was anyone who knew where the bomb was going to, it would be him. And, of course, no doubt he knew the how and by who. The CIA wanted a piece of Garry Smith but Dir. Blake Hinton of CSIS said, "He may be a traitor, but he's our traitor. You can talk to him but he's not going anywhere."

Garry Smith would later find himself getting _some lovin, some carin, and free accommodation, medical services and food for the rest of his natural life._

They returned to the CRIB to debrief. Spike asked Yoh-Lin if they cracked the case in "18 days." Yoh-Lin smiled and said, "Actually, with seven days to spare." Sam said, "That calls for a toast." She went to where a bottle of champagne was hidden just for this occasion. And Bryce toasted with, "May love, life, laughter follow us every day of our lives."

At that, Sam homed into Yoh-Lin like a heat-seeking missile and kissed him deeply on the lips, "Been wanting to do that for a long time." Yoh-Lin, clueless as ever in the name of love said, "You were?' Spike and Bryce laughed their heads off. So there was something the Master Spy had no clue on! He would NEVER, EVER be able to live that one down.

It turned out Sam Miller has had the hots for the debonair, clueless Yoh-Lin Tee for ages! _Sounds familiar?_

_Oh, there's one more chapter to follow and it would be the mother of all cliffhangers!_


	13. Where to from Here?

**Where to from Here?**

A week later, the world has gained a bit of an upper hand against organised crime lords. Governments were cooperating to some extent but the biggest discovery was how the recruits were communicating. If one were to think about, it was all so simple in its sophistication. No matter how much advancement there's been in software development, nothing beats a pair of human eyes and a human mind. If Yoh-Lin wasn't watching the terminals that day, they would still have nothing but chatters to this day.

Sam's photography and recording were also yielding results. Matches have been made and people were either being arrested or deported depending on how high the totem pole they were. But some people Canada would prefer not to keep, regardless of their pole position, a one-way ticket where they came from was a better option, after all China and Indonesia were both well known for their hospitality.

Spike was back to what he does best, keeping the peace both in the City of Toronto and at home. They were still undecided what to do with the "kids". His apartment was too small for them but now Winnie's place was too dangerous for canines. _What to do?_

Liley recovered well. Spike had no doubt for she was a fighter. He found her barely alive wedged between a crevice in a campground with an arrow stuck to her leg. She lost a Mom early but found another. Moppet's growing up quickly but Spike was not sure whether she'd be able to remain as care free as she's been with just three legs. He's heard of many three-legged dogs that lived a long and happy lives, he desperately want the same for her. Or, he could build her a robotics leg, now that's a thought.

Lance-Corporal Bryce Cameron went on furlough to the middle of Queensland to be reunited with his son, Rajo. It would be a short R & R but every moment counts. He's 38 now, in two years he would be retired from Special Forces as it's the mandatory age for pasture. SF men have to have the best reflexes, the strongest muscles, the hardest bones, and all these wither with age. He would have many employment opportunities. He could join the burgeoning numbers of ex-Special Forces working as bodyguards to the rich and famous. He could return to his unit in the regular army. He could become a mercenary, but this wasn't on his radar. He could become a pastoralist, a farmer in the Outback and raise a wonderful son who would one day change the world. That last one sounded good. But two years away was two years away, he wouldn't think of that now.

Sam Miller proposed to Yoh-Lin Tee who accepted, and they would be getting married in Venice in a couple of weeks. She would be wearing a barely there bikini. Sam wasn't into being overdressed. Winnie laughed when she heard and Spike teased her for being "unreasonably jealous."

Before Yoh-Lin went away for his wedding he asked Spike to reconsider his decision to stay out the spy game. "We need men like you," he said. "You have to admit, it was a lot of fun." Winnie overheard the conversation, she didn't say anything but Spike knew what she was thinking. _What to do? _

At any rate, Spike received an email from Yoh-Lin not long after that conversation. Believe it or not, he sent it on his honeymoon, also attached was a greeting from Sam, who appeared not to mind that their honeymoon has become a working holiday. Obviously, they knew no other way to live their lives.

The email said if you wish to help with this case, just click on the attachment. **No pressure**. If you don't want, hit delete and could you please use a "scrubber" too.

Spike looked at the email. _It's very interesting. Hum, should I? _

He looked at Winnie who was still recovering from her back injury. _I can't do that to her again. I just can't. _

But the little envelope seems to be winking at him_. Should I?_

Then he noticed Liley was looking a little bit out of the weather, _maybe I shouldn't_.

But the little envelope was waiting for him, it seems to be winking at him, it does! _I swear it has my name on it._

But Moppet, the little one was barking at him,"I want to go out and play," says Moppet. _I have to spend time with my kids._

But it was so very tempting. Yoh-Lin said Canada needs men like me. _Hum._ His hand touched the mouse. He was ready to click, _which would it be? Hum….._

_Should I?_

_Shouldn't I?_

_Hum…._

And his hand stayed on the mouse, _hum…._

_The End._


End file.
